200 HARLEY STREET

Glamour, intensity, desire—the lives and loves of London’s hottest team of surgeons!

For the next four months enter the world of London’s elite surgeons as they transform the lives of their patients and find love amidst a sea of passions and tensions …!

In April, renowned plastic surgeon and legendary playboy Leo Hunter can’t resist the challenge of unbuttoning the intriguing new head nurse, Lizzie Birch!

200 HARLEY STREET: SURGEON IN A TUX by Carol Marinelli

And glamorous Head of PR Lexi Robbins is determined to make gruff, grieving and super-sexy Scottish surgeon Iain MacKenzie her Hunter Clinic star!

200 HARLEY STREET: GIRL FROM THE RED CARPET by Scarlet Wilson

In May, top-notch surgeons and estranged spouses Rafael and Abbie de Luca find being forced to work together again tough as their passion is as incendiary as ever!

200 HARLEY STREET: THE PROUD ITALIAN by Alison Roberts

And one night with his new colleague, surgeon Grace Turner, sees former Hollywood plastic surgeon Mitchell Cooper daring to live again …

200 HARLEY STREET: AMERICAN SURGEON IN LONDON by Lynne Marshall

Then, in June, injured war hero Prince Marco meets physical therapist Becca Anderson—the woman he once shared a magical forbidden summer romance with long ago …

200 HARLEY STREET: THE SOLDIER PRINCE by Kate Hardy

When genius micro-surgeon Edward North meets single mum Nurse Charlotte King she opens his eyes to a whole new world …

200 HARLEY STREET: THE ENIGMATIC SURGEON by Annie Claydon

Finally join us in July, when junior surgeon Kara must work with hot-shot Irish surgeon Declan Underwood—the man she kissed at the hospital ball!

200 HARLEY STREET: THE SHAMELESS MAVERICK by Louisa George

And brilliant charity surgeon Olivia Fairchild faces the man who once broke her heart—damaged ex-soldier Ethan Hunter. Yet she’s unprepared for his haunted eyes and the shock of his sensual touch …!

200 HARLEY STREET: THE TORTURED HERO by Amy Andrews

Experience glamour, tension, heartbreak and emotion at 200 HARLEY STREET in this new eight-book continuity from Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™

These books are also available in eBook format and in two 200 HARLEY STREET collection bundles from www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader

I’ve always loved the Medical Romance™ linked books. Long before I started to write for Mills & Boon® I used to seek out every book in a series and read them from start to finish. There have been some great serials recently, set in Australia and the US, and I couldn’t wait until it was time to set a story in the UK again and I might get to be involved.

Taking part in a series is great fun. I was asked about the kind of hero and heroine I would like and I requested a big Scottish hero who looked like Sawyer from Lost and a heroine with fake boobs! I was lucky—I got both my requests. Fake boobs are a general no-no in romance novels. If they are there at all they tend to belong to the villainess in the piece. So I was delighted to write about a heroine who, even though she might have been pressured initially, wasn’t embarrassed about the decision she’d made and was happy with her new shape.

Mills & Boon® are books that move with the times and reflect the modern women around them. I’m proud to be part of an up-to-date publisher!

Please feel free to contact me via my website: www.scarlet-wilson.com

Scarlet

200 Harley Street: Girl from the Red Carpet
Scarlet Wilson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the newest addition to our family, Lleyton John Hyndman, a beautiful boy for whom I’m wishing a long, healthy and happy life.

Welcome to the family!

Table of Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Title Page

DEDICATION

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

LEXI TAPPED HER pink fingernails on the desk with impatience. The clinic was in complete darkness. All caused by a little ‘phoof’ when she’d tried to switch on the lights in one of the consulting rooms. If only she knew where the main trip switch was.

She squinted at her watch, using the light from her phone. Just after eleven o’clock at night. Where was he? He had to be here somewhere—his car was parked just down the road. She’d already phoned the few members of staff that were currently in Drake’s wine bar and he wasn’t with them.

She spun on her heel, a new determination causing her stomach to clench.

‘Iain McKenzie, you can run but you can’t hide.’

He’d been avoiding her all day.

She knew that.

And he knew that.

But two could play at that game. No one escaped Lexi Robbins, Head of PR at the Hunter Clinic. She’d got tired of dodging his lame excuses via his devoted and sergeant-majorish secretary. She’d looked at his theatre lists today and knew exactly when he’d be available.

Except he’d been in a meeting, then taking a conference call, then out buying a sandwich. The final straw had been when his secretary had said he’d left to pick up his dry-cleaning!

So she’d waited. Lexi Robbins could be very patient. She was also very persistent. So far she’d been through the three operating theatres, the recovery room and the anaesthetic room—even though there were no patients in the building—all in her search for Iain.

She’d checked his room four times today. She’d checked the waiting room, the kitchen, the changing rooms and the treatment rooms. She’d been down to the gym and private swimming pool too—the thought of catching Iain McKenzie in a state of undress wasn’t exactly unappealing. Now she’d started checking the other consultants’ rooms in the hope she’d catch him hiding somewhere.

As a kid she’d been the best at hide and seek and she’d no intention of being beaten now.

Iain McKenzie had met his match.

It was infuriating. He was infuriating. She was only trying to do her job and help raise the profile of the clinic to try and attract some more overseas clients. So far, she’d managed to persuade several celebrity friends, a few TV film stars, an international politician and the sheikh of Amal to use the services of the Hunter Clinic. Interviewing and filming some of the staff members would help her publicity drive to even bigger audiences.

And with his shaggy hair, muscular build and Scottish accent Iain McKenzie was to die for. Women would love him and flock to this clinic from miles around if only she could get him on screen and online.

She’d worked hard for this job and had no intention of failing. Leo Hunter had just let her know that they were linking with a charity, so raising the profile and income of the Hunter Clinic would be even more crucial than before. She was determined not to let him down, not when he’d given her an opportunity that others hadn’t.

Being the daughter of a family constantly in the media meant she had her own cross to bear. If she had a pound for every time someone had said the words ‘You’re Penelope Crosby’s daughter?’, usually with an expression of disbelief in their eyes, she would never need to work again. Being the daughter of a former famous model with one of the world’s top-selling range of beauty products was tough—having a father who interviewed all the top celebrities in the world, along with his billionaire status, was even tougher.

No one in her family had respected her decision to go to university and get her degree. No one in the family respected the work she did at the Hunter Clinic. The only time her parents had ever been happy with her choices was when she’d spent a few summers doing charity work because it had given them more good publicity than they would ever need.

That’s why she was so determined not to let Leo down.

No matter how hard Iain McKenzie tried to hide from her.

She could see it in her head right now. The publicity shot she wanted to use—Iain McKenzie in that dark grey suit he wore, with a white shirt and red tie, arms folded across his chest in front of the Hunter Clinic sign. He would look fabulous.

Or maybe she should put him in a set of navy scrubs—all his athletic muscles would be clearly on show. Or maybe she could persuade him to wear a kilt.

No. Scratch that. Old prickly guts would never agree to wear a kilt for her.

She pushed open the door to Mitchell Cooper’s room. Even though the lights were out there was plenty of light from the outside streetlights in Harley Street. She could see around the room easily. Empty. Just like all the others.

There was only one place left. Leo Hunter’s office. The boss.

She felt a flutter of excitement. Leo’s office was the most gorgeous in the building. Spectacular views over Harley Street, hand-picked opulent furniture and gorgeous soft furnishings.

She turned the handle carefully. It almost felt wrong, creeping into the boss’s office while he wasn’t around. But she was determined to check every inch of this clinic.

But something was wrong. There were no gentle lights from the street bathing the office in a partly orange glow.

The curtains were pulled tightly, leaving the office in complete darkness. She fumbled with her phone, trying to pull it from her pocket and use the torch to see her way around.

A flicker of nerves danced across her skin. What was that faint noise? She held her breath, leaning forward a little and straining to hear. But after more than sixteen hours in stiletto heels her balance had deserted her. She tripped on the large Turkish rug Leo kept in the middle of his floor. She fell forward and let out a gasp, reaching out towards the blackness in front of her and hitting the edge of the chesterfield lounge—and a whole lot more.

There was movement. Sudden, powerful movement and none of it was hers. Lexi felt the breath leave her body as she found herself spun around and pushed flat on her back onto the chesterfield lounge.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the thudding reverberating in her ears. She tried to reach out and fight her attacker as an adrenaline surge hit her body. Fight or flight had never seemed more apt. But the arms holding her down were fierce. Fierce and strong, very strong.

Her breath seemed caught in her throat, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her attacker’s weight was pressing down on her chest, affecting her ability to take a deep breath.

She still couldn’t see. It was just darkness, pure and utter darkness. Like your worst nightmare and most hated horror movie all rolled into one.

She heard a grunt. And it gave her the faintest glimmer of hope.

It was a grunt she thought she recognised. Usually when she was trying to persuade him to acknowledge her existence.

She fought to push the word from her throat. ‘Iain?’ she croaked.

Iain had finally managed to grab a few minutes’ precious sleep. There was no point in going home. No matter how exhausted he was—or how many hours he’d spent in theatre, making the world look ‘more beautiful’—sleep evaded him the second he stepped through his doorway.

Too much quiet. Too much time to let his brain spin around and around, going over all aspects of his past. Every decision made, every conversation, every cross word, every pleaded case. If only he’d taken the road less travelled.

It didn’t matter that he’d moved from Edinburgh to London. His house had too many memories and too many familiar knick-knacks that he couldn’t face putting away. That would be like a betrayal.

So he’d spent half the day playing cat and mouse with Lexi Robbins. The woman wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. Boy, was she tenacious—his gran would have loved her. All over an interview that he’d cancelled at the last minute and publicity that he couldn’t really care less about.

And just when the muscles in his body had finally started to relax—just when the last remnants of tension had finally managed to exit his body—this.

Noise. In the Hunter Clinic in the middle of the night.

Noise. In a place where he was supposed to be alone.

The assailant was smaller than he expected. Lighter than he expected too. Probably in search of drugs or the elusive cosmetic fillers that Harley Street was so famous for.

Then it hit him. That smell.

The smell that had been haunting him around the clinic for the last few days.

Strike that. Actually, for the last few months. Ever since Lexi Robbins had started working there.

Sensual woody amber distinctive notes with gentle floral notes of jasmine. Along with the feel of some very distinctive soft curves that only a plastic surgeon could recognise merely by touch.

He could feel the assailant’s soft breath beneath him, along with the strangled voice. ‘Iain?’

‘Lexi?’ He sprang backwards, moving swiftly to the door and trying to flick on the light. Nothing. Still darkness.

‘I think I blew the lights,’ came the whisper from the couch. She was still breathless. He’d obviously winded her.

After a few seconds she fumbled for her phone and pressed the button to light up the room. She held it towards him. ‘Do you know where the master switch is?’

Rage was circulating in his belly. What on earth was she doing? He snatched the phone from her hand and strode down the corridor towards the electricity box, opening it quickly and flicking the master switch, allowing instant illumination in parts of the clinic.

Bright. White. Everywhere.

Sometimes he could groan out loud about the décor in the clinic. Leo Hunter had wanted brilliant white and clean lines everywhere—thank goodness he’d been allowed to decorate his office to his own taste.

But now that he could actually see what he was doing he was furious.

‘What were you thinking of, Lexi?’ He stormed back into the room.

But Lexi hadn’t moved. Even though the room was now flooded with light she was still lying on the couch, her hands pressed to her chest, her face as white as a sheet. One shoe was twisted on the floor, the other dangling from the end of her foot. Her usually pristine suit was a little askew and it looked as if the top button had popped from her shirt.

Yikes! He’d thought he was tackling a burglar. Maybe he’d been a little more forceful than he thought.

‘Lexi? Are you okay?’ He stood over her, giving her a few seconds to collect herself.

After what seemed like an age she finally blinked. Colour flooded into her face and she pushed herself up. ‘Wow. Talk about sweeping the legs from under a girl.’

Iain felt colour come to his own cheeks. He was trying hard not to stare at Lexi’s cleavage. He was a plastic surgeon. He spent his days with his hands on women’s breasts. But he’d never clocked Lexi Robbins as a boob job kind of girl. She’d surprised him.

In all the time she’d been around him in the last few months, wearing her designer suits, he’d never noticed her additions. But then again, he’d never seen her undressed.

He pushed the thoughts that sprang to mind aside instantly. He sat down on one of the leather armchairs and put his head in his hands. ‘What on earth are you doing here at this time of night, Lexi?’ He was tired. And he was definitely feeling crabbit.

She straightened on the couch, looking down at her shirt and frowning at the missing button. ‘I could ask you the same thing.’

She was obviously feeling a bit better. Lexi Robbins could give as good as she got. He raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a cheeky smile. ‘Avoiding you?’

She shot him a glare.

He held up his hands. ‘Seriously, Lexi. I thought you were a burglar. You’re lucky I didn’t do you some permanent damage.’

‘Who says you didn’t?’

She was adjusting herself on the couch and he felt instantly uncomfortable. What did she mean? He hadn’t done anything more than push her onto the couch and hold her down. There was no way he could have damaged her implants.

Her blonde tousled hair fell over her face as she shuffled on the edge of the couch. Iain was torn between panic and embarrassment. It didn’t help that his curiosity was naturally piqued.

He’d heard of Lexi before she’d started work here. Even for a man who had as little interest in celebrities as humanly possible—other than to contemplate what procedures they’d had done—it was impossible to miss Lexi Robbins.

If there was an event she was at it. Albeit usually trying to fade into the background behind her mother and father, but dazzling all the same. He’d instantly dismissed her as a wannabe and had been more than a little surprised when Leo had hired her as their head of PR.

But Leo Hunter only hired the best. And Iain could vouch for that as Leo had pursued him relentlessly to get him here.

She lifted her head and gave her hair a shake, catching him with her blue eyes and winking. ‘Gotcha!’

He couldn’t stop the instant smile that appeared on his lips. Even this late at night, after pursuing him all day, she could still joke with him.

She slid off the chesterfield and moved over towards him, folding her arms across her depleted shirt. ‘So, Iain McKenzie, your mission to avoid me has failed. Resistance is futile.’

He raised his eyebrows. Surprised by her knowledge of his favourite TV show. Lexi Robbins did her homework.

‘You’re going to have to agree to the interview and to me shadowing you for a few days. I mean, after all, some people could be very upset about being mishandled.’

He sighed. ‘Ms Robbins, are you trying to blackmail me?’

She gave a perfunctory nod. ‘You bet I am.’

He shook his head. ‘Lexi, find someone else. Some happy, shiny person who likes doing this kind of thing. I just want to do my job.’

‘And so do I. Believe it or not, Ethan Hunter is even more difficult than you. Would you call him happy and shiny? Because he’s my other potential interviewee.’ She raised her eyebrows at him.

His head was spinning. She’d moved closer and he was getting a waft of that perfume again. Predator perfume. At least that was what his brain was telling him.

It was making him uneasy, on edge. Or maybe it was just reminding him of how up close and personal they’d just been.

When was the last time he’d been up close and personal with a woman?

He didn’t even want to think about that. He’d known from the second he’d laid eyes on her that Lexi Robbins meant trouble for him. His body reacted in ways it shouldn’t when she was around. The sound of her voice, the smell of her distinctive perfume, even the sound of her stiletto heels clicking along the corridor were enough to send his imagination into overdrive and remind him of why he’d been avoiding her at all costs.

He rubbed his sleep-heavy eyes. Maybe his nightmares had taken a new turn and an alien was about to burst from her stomach and eat him alive. Nope. She was still there. Still staring at him with her big blue eyes and pink lips.

She held out her hand towards him.

‘What?’

‘Let’s go, Iain.’

For a second he was confused. ‘Go where?’

She shot him a dazzling smile. ‘Home. I’m going to take you home.’

CHAPTER TWO

SHE WAS TRYING not to show her nerves. Trying to pretend that this was an everyday occurrence.

But Iain McKenzie wasn’t helping. His brow was wrinkled, deep furrowed wrinkles that marred his handsome complexion.

She leaned forward and grabbed hold of one his hands, bending down in front of him. ‘Iain, I’m worried about you. You spent hours in surgery today, then you spent another few hours avoiding me, and now I catch you here …’ she held up her other hand ‘… fast asleep in another office.’ She looked up into his face, seeing tiny lines of exhaustion around his eyes that instantly tugged at her heart. ‘It’s not good, Iain. You are one of our greatest assets. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t take you home.’

The confused and uptight expression on his face relaxed a little. Oh, no. What had he thought she’d meant?

She patted his hand. It was meant to be reassuring, motherly. But it wasn’t working for her, and she doubted it was working for him. It was only making her sluggish veins pick up tempo and send the blood flowing more quickly back to her heart.

The long day had obviously caused her brain to become fuddled. The sooner she got Iain McKenzie home safely the better.

He stood up next to her and she was instantly swamped by his large athletic frame. ‘Don’t be silly, Lexi. You’re not going to drive me home. My car is down the street. I’ll go and get it.’

That accent. That Scottish burr sent shivers down her spine. She could happily listen to it all day. And she could bet that potential clients could too. She had to persuade him to take part in the publicity campaign. Iain was pure gold.

It was time for a firm approach. ‘Iain, I meant what I said. From what I can gather, you’ve put in a sixteen-hour day so far. You were sleeping soundly before I disturbed you.’ Then she wrinkled her nose. ‘And, truth be told, I’d already staked out your car. It looks as if it’s got a flat. There’s no way you’re changing that at this time of night.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Not in the dark anyway, with those surgeon’s hands. How much are they worth?’

She saw his shoulders sag a little and it gave her a spurt of hope. Maybe tomorrow he could forgive her little white lie? In the meantime, she had to use her best tactics to persuade him to take part in the publicity.

He gave his forehead another rub and arched his back. ‘Okay, Lexi. Thanks for the offer. I guess spending the night in the clinic isn’t ideal.’ He bent over and picked up his jacket, which was lying across a chair, then held the door open for her.

She gave a little nod, straightened her blouse and jacket and slipped her feet back into her shoes. It only took a few minutes to reach her car, which she’d moved near the clinic entrance.

He nodded in approval. ‘Sports car? Nice, Lexi. Did you pick this yourself?’

She gave an embarrassed shake of her head as she pressed the button to open the doors. ‘Not exactly. It was a birthday present.’

He let out a sigh as he sat down in the passenger seat, folding his long legs into the small footwell. ‘That’s some birthday present. From a man?’

The question hung in the air between them. Was he curious about her love life, or was he just making small talk? The air in the car seemed to instantly close around them as she slammed her door. Iain McKenzie was a big man in the small space. The sleeve of his jacket was brushing against hers.

Her brain was ready to drift back to the office. To the feel of the hard planes of his chest against her firm breasts.

She pushed the gearstick into reverse and looked at him sideways. ‘The car was from my father. I’d like to think he spent hours thinking about it, but the reality is his PA probably picked the make, model and colour and all he had to do was sign the cheque.’

She pulled out into the street. It was practically empty at this time in the morning and her natural instinct was to floor it. Talking about her parents brought out the worst in her.

Iain surprised her. He let out a deep, hearty laugh. She glanced over, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

‘So you’re a cynic, then, Lexi Robbins. I never had you down for that. I thought you lived a remarkably charmed life.’

Her instant reaction was to bristle and put him promptly in his place. But this was her chance to work on him—not alienate him. Plus with that face she was still curious as to why a man as hard working and good looking as Iain didn’t have someone to rush home to. Why on earth would anyone like him want to sleep at the clinic? It just didn’t make sense.

‘I know you’ve been avoiding me. I’m not an idiot, you know.’

‘I’m sorry. I just don’t have the time. And to be honest, I can’t really see the point. Get someone else to do it. Someone who likes a bit of the limelight on them.’

‘Like who, Ethan?’

She let the question hang in the air. If Iain was prickly then Ethan Hunter was a floating underwater mine.

A former soldier, who was still recuperating from an injury he really refused to acknowledge. His heart was in the right place and he was committed to all the charity work the clinic was involved in—most of it he’d referred himself. But putting Ethan on screen for the clinic’s publicity would be a complete no-no. She’d already tried to interview him twice with no success. Ethan just wasn’t a people person.

Whatever had happened in his past meant he just wasn’t ready for this kind of thing, and Lexi knew enough about people to know when to leave it alone. Hence her relentless pursuit of Iain. He was her current golden goose—whether he liked it or not.

Iain eventually let out a long sigh. ‘Okay. Agreed, Ethan probably isn’t the best person right now. He asked me to be involved in his charity work and obviously I agreed—who wouldn’t? I can make a real difference to some of those patients’ lives. I’m happy to help. I’m happy to give up my time and do the surgery free. It’s just the rest of the stuff I don’t like so much.’

Lexi lifted her hands off the steering-wheel of the car and made quote marks with her fingers in the air. ‘You mean the “rest of the stuff” like me?’

Iain ran his fingers through his dark hair. It was obvious he was tired and she was putting him on the spot. But maybe, just maybe, in a moment of weakness he would relent and agree to what she wanted.

She indicated and turned the car into the nearest street. It would only be a few more minutes before they reached Iain’s townhouse. It was time to turn the screw. ‘I don’t think you understand how hard I’m working at all this, Iain. You might do the surgery for free, but what about everything else? We need to pay for theatre time, equipment use, other staff salaries and all the aftercare. We need the publicity to raise funds for all other aspects of the charity work. These interviews are really important.

‘Leo has just agreed to take on another charity for one of his friends. Did he talk to you about Fair Go—Olivia Fairchild’s charity? She’s doing some stellar work in Africa. There are children out there who really need our help. Kids who’ve been victims of the violence—victims of war. The kind of kids who fall through the cracks. Their conditions aren’t life-threatening or emergencies—but think of the difference we could make to their lives by doing what in this country would be seen as basic surgery. If we can do some interviews with staff members, focus on their special skills and surgeries, get the information out there for the world and media to see, it could really raise the profile of the Hunter Clinic. The more international customers we have, the more disposable income the clinic can use to help aid these charities.

‘The Hunter Clinic has finally managed to regain its reputation and polish. Things are looking even better now people know that Leo and Ethan are working together. It does wonders for the whole ethos of the place. Just think, Iain, if a clinic that’s known as the best of the best is going all out for some of these charities, don’t you think that will make people stop and think? It’ll make people look more closely at these charities and wonder what they could do to help too. That’s exactly the kind of publicity that they need, Iain. This isn’t just about your surgical skills and time, it’s about the bigger picture. It’s about what everyone else can do to help.’

She couldn’t stop the enthusiasm and passion that was coming through in her voice. She was excited just thinking about this and the huge realm of possibilities. She could tell she was getting to him. He wasn’t so quick to answer back, as if he were mulling over what she’d just said. Exactly the way she’d hoped he would.

Her brain was whirring again and her tongue itching to fill the silence in the car. But this was exactly the time to be quiet. To leave him with no excuse but to mull it over.

She changed gear and her hand brushed against his thigh. Wow. Now there were a hundred reasons for a girl not to concentrate on the road.

For a second she felt a little panicked. She could smell him. His scent was invading her senses and she was starting to feel swamped by his presence in her car. She could remember his firm hands on her shoulders, holding her down on the couch. It had been terrifying. All rational thought had flown out of the window.

Of course it had to have been Iain. He was the person she’d been hunting for in the clinic—who else could it possibly have been?

And once the terror had left her, all she’d been left with had been the whoosh.

That feeling of being close to a man again. How long had it been since she’d let a man touch her? And how much had her senses fired in Iain’s powerful arms?

She tried to shake the intimate thoughts from her head. She was a professional. She had a job to do. And Iain McKenzie was part of that job.

Her PR head started to buzz. Should she have concerns about Iain McKenzie? Why on earth was one of their top surgeons sleeping at the clinic? She’d read the information in his personnel file. She knew he was originally from Edinburgh and had a broad general experience before specialising in plastics. He’d printed several professional papers, spoke at conferences and conducted scientific clinical studies into different techniques for various types of plastic surgery. Technically, he was brilliant.

So why did she feel as if something was wrong? More importantly, why did it make her stomach twist?

That was the thing about Iain’s personnel file. There was hardly a ‘personal’ thing in it. All professional. It just didn’t sit right with her.

She pulled up outside his townhouse.

‘How did you know where I stay, Lexi? I never told you.’

The frown was etched on his brow again. If he wasn’t careful it would become a permanent fixture.

She smiled. ‘I’m the Head of PR, Iain. I know everything about everybody.’ She looked up at the dark townhouse. It wasn’t exactly welcoming.

Bleak and sombre. A bit like Iain.

She’d expected him to more or less jump from the car the second they arrived but he didn’t. He sat for a few moments then turned to face her. With so little space between them in the car she was almost afraid to turn round.

‘I appreciate what you’re trying to do for the charities. Really, I do, Lexi. And if Leo hired you then he must think you’re good at your job.’

‘And you don’t?’ Was that the implication? Because that train of thought alarmed her.

He shook his head and lifted his hand. ‘Don’t be so defensive. What exactly is it you want from me?’

She took a deep breath. Finally. She was going to get somewhere with him.

‘I want to shadow you for a few days. See your consultations with patients. Watch you perform surgery. Once I’ve had a chance to get to see the real you, I’ll interview you on camera. It will work better that way, I’ll know you—you’ll know me. The interview will go more smoothly.’

He frowned. ‘That’s a bit more in-depth than I expected. I can’t have you disturbing things with my patients. If they don’t want you around you have to leave.’ His words were absolutely definite.

She nodded quickly. ‘Agreed.’

‘And I’ll need my patients’ consent for you to watch any surgeries.’

‘Will that be difficult?’

He let out a slow stream of air through his lips. ‘Not tomorrow it won’t. I’m performing surgery on Aida Atkins. You know how fame-hungry she is. She’ll be falling all over herself at the mere thought of some publicity for herself.’ He paused. ‘You signed a confidentiality agreement when you started at the clinic?’

She nodded.

‘I think you’ll find with Aida Atkins you may as well throw it out the window.’

Aida Atkins. The latest model-cum-actress-cum-trophy wife. Lexi had seen more of them than she’d eaten home-cooked meals. Hardly difficult.

‘This publicity is really about the clinic, the work you do and the associated charities.’

‘Aida won’t care. If she gets her five minutes of fame she’ll be happy. Her type are all the same.’

‘What does that mean?’ There was a horrible little gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach. She could almost predict what he was about to say.

‘Vain. Pretentious. Fixed ideas about what a perfect body should look like.’

‘If you feel like that, why are you operating on her?’

‘Because it’s what she wants. Because she’s medically and psychologically competent to make a decision about surgery and she’s not an anaesthetic risk. As simple as that.’

Lexi could feel a wave of disappointment sweep over her body. Was that what he thought about all his plastic-surgery clients? That they were all superficial and vain? Was that what he thought about her because she’d had a boob job?

He shook his head as if he realised his words sounded unnecessarily harsh. ‘Wait until tomorrow. You’ll understand then. There’s a reason I’m doing Aida’s surgery instead of a general plastic surgeon.’

Iain put his hand on the door handle. ‘Princess Catherine’s. Seven a.m. tomorrow. And bring something to eat. It will be a long day.’ It took him a few seconds to release his long legs from the foot well. He straightened up and pulled some house keys from his pocket.

She watched as he looked over at the house. There was no look of relief to finally be home. More a look of resignation. He bent back down. ‘Thanks for the lift, Lexi. See you tomorrow.’ Then he slammed the door and trudged up his steps.

Lexi took a deep breath. There was so much more hidden behind the handsome façade of Iain McKenzie. The question was, how much did she want to find out?

CHAPTER THREE

THE DARKNESS PERVADED him as soon as he set foot in his house. It was such a shame as it was a beautiful home and, in theory, all his dark memories should have been left behind in Edinburgh.

Coming to London was supposed to be the start of something new for him. He just couldn’t seem to shake off the big black thundercloud of guilt that hung permanently above his head.

He flicked on a light and looked out at the road. Lexi hadn’t pulled away yet. Should he have invited her in? Had he been impolite? It had been so long since he’d done any of the social niceties with women that he’d probably forgotten what most of them were.

He watched as she indicated and pulled out onto the quiet street. It was after midnight. If he’d invited her in it might have been misconstrued as something else entirely. And whether he admitted it or not, he was trying to avoid the woman who was causing uncomfortable flarings in his libido, not invite her into his home.

He paused at the dark polished sideboard, which held a photograph of himself and his wife, Bonnie. They were sitting on the grass in their garden in Edinburgh, her back leaning against him and his arms wrapped around her enlarged abdomen. Bonnie had the most contented look on her face. The look of a woman who had finally got the thing she’d always dreamed of. They both looked like that, but Iain knew the truth behind that photo.

One of his friends had suggested he put that picture away. A friend who’d been close enough to both of them to know what had actually happened.

But Iain couldn’t do that. His guilt didn’t matter. This was still his favourite picture of them both. They looked so relaxed. They looked so happy. As if they had their whole lives ahead of them.

If only he’d known …

His fingers touched the glass in front of the photograph. ‘Three years, Bonnie,’ he whispered. And not a single day had gone by that he hadn’t thought of her.

They’d been childhood sweethearts. Destined to be together for ever. Or so they had thought.

When Leo Hunter had pursued him to work at the Hunter Clinic he’d thought the guy was crazy. His world had just collapsed around him and Leo had wanted him to up sticks and move to another part of the country?

But Leo had understood him better than he’d understood himself. He’d known he would never be able to pull himself up if he stayed in the family home, with the same work colleagues with their averted eyes and sad expressions. The move to London had been exactly what he’d needed at the time. Apart from Leo, no one knew about his wife. He’d skirted around the edges of any potentially difficult conversations, avoiding any personal details.

London was easy to lose yourself in. And the clientele coming to and from the Hunter Clinic had more to worry about than the personal background of their surgeon. And it was better that way. It really was.

Iain walked into his vast kitchen and pulled a glass from the cupboard, pressing it against the dispenser on his stainless-steel fridge. A beautiful kitchen that he hardly used. Just like the rest of this house.

He climbed the staircase to his bedroom, peeled off his jacket, trousers, shirt and tie, not bothering to hang them up. He’d have to be up in a few hours to get to Princess Catherine’s for surgery and he had a whole rail of identical business suits in the cupboard.

He sank into the bed with white Egyptian cotton sheets. Praying that tonight—even for a few hours—he might get a few hours’ precious sleep.

But it wasn’t to be.

It seemed that it wasn’t only the scent of Lexi Robbins that had pervaded his memory. He sat bolt upright in bed, sweat pouring from his body.

This was why he’d purposefully been avoiding Lexi Robbins.

He’d known it. Right from the first time he’d seen her and he’d felt a skitter of impulses across his shoulders that he couldn’t be around her. He couldn’t be near her.

He leant forward and wiped the sweat from his brow. Erotic dreams weren’t the norm for Iain. But when Lexi’s firm breasts had pressed against the planes of his chest it had left an indelible imprint. Not just on his skin.

Those tiny, fleeting thoughts that hadn’t even taken up a second in his brain when he’d had her pressed down on the examination couch had just taken front and centre stage in his mind in all their erotic beauty. Dreams like that had more than one obvious effect on the body.

He’d never be able to look Lexi Robbins in the eye today. It was almost as if he could smell her here, now.

He jumped from the bed and walked through to the en suite, flicking the switch on the shower then coming back and gulping the glass of water at the side of his bed. Was he going crazy? He could smell Lexi Robbins.

Then he remembered how close they’d been. He snatched his crumpled shirt from the floor and pressed it to his nose. There. Not the smell of his own aftershave. The smell of her.

That heady, exotic smell that left an invisible pied-piper trail wherever she went. That was what had caused the dream. Nothing else.

The shirt had been lying at his bedside and her scent had obviously drifted up and around him while he’d slept. How could this woman find a way into his dreams?

Guilt flooded through him, seeping in through every pore on his body. The hot sweat instantly turned cold, chilling his skin. Bonnie. That’s who he should have been dreaming about. No one else.

Steam was starting to billow from the shower. He stalked back through and instantly turned the switch to cold. That was what he needed. Icy, cold, blasting water to wash away any unwanted thoughts or feelings.

He stepped into the freezing water, shuddering as it came into contact with his skin. There was no point going back to sleep now.

Not if Lexi Robbins was going to feature in his dreams again.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘MORNING, MORNING.’ LEXI nodded at the sea of faces in and around the theatres at Princess Catherine’s, or Kate’s, where the Hunter Clinic had an arrangement to perform adult surgery. Children’s surgery was carried out at the Lighthouse Children’s Hospital.

Lexi had thought she’d be in good stead, turning up early. But early seemed to be normal in the theatres here.

She’d followed all the instructions carefully. Even though she wouldn’t be near any patients, she’d removed the nail varnish from her fingernails, ensured her face was scrubbed clean of any make-up and left her perfume and jewellery at home. She didn’t want to give Iain McKenzie any reason not to let her shadow him today.

And her stomach was churning a little. Nerves. Lots of them. Most of the world saw Lexi Robbins as a together, sorted woman. She didn’t reveal the insecure woman that hid away underneath. The person who was horrified to be here with a bare face and pulled-back hair.

It was odd, but she felt strangely safe here. No paparazzi were going to jump out from a corner and snap her, showing the world she wasn’t as beautiful as her mother. No one here cared. Everyone here had one purpose in mind—excellent patient care. It was almost a relief to know she could fade into the background.

Kate’s was buzzing. There was a rainbow of coloured scrubs around her. She’d been under the illusion that everyone wore the same-coloured scrubs, but Kate’s had scrubs in every colour, shape and size. One of the theatre nurses had pointed her to a laundry cupboard and told her to help herself. So she had, and she was currently sporting pale pink scrubs and white clogs.

‘Ready?’

The deep voice behind her made her jump. ‘Oh, Iain. Great. I was waiting for you.’

The words seemed to come out all wrong and she could feel the colour rushing into her face. She might have guessed it. Even dressed in navy scrubs there was no disguising his broad frame and muscles. If she was going to have to watch that muscled back all day she might as well just go and lie down in a corner now.

‘I’ve already spoken to Aida. She signed a disclaimer. She’s more than happy for you to watch her surgery—you can even film it if you like.’

Lexi cleared her throat. ‘Actually, it’s you we would be filming, Iain. We don’t intend to focus on the patient. Just let people see your expertise at work.’

‘Whatever.’ He gave a shrug and pushed open the door to the theatre. ‘After you …’

She nodded and brushed past his arm as he held the door open for her. No contact. That’s what she’d been telling herself all night. Seems like she’d broken her first rule already.

She tried to back herself into a corner as the rest of the staff moved in perfect unison around the theatre. Iain and one of his colleagues scrubbing meticulously at the sinks. The nurses opening up theatre packs, the anaesthetist and his assistant bringing Aida into Theatre and talking to her quietly and calmly as they put her under.

Lexi could feel herself holding her breath as the drapes were placed around Aida and her skin cleaned with betadine. Wow. Scars like she’d never seen before.

Iain’s brown eyes connected with hers above his mask. He nodded towards her. ‘Step a little closer, Lexi.’

Her feet moved forward, even though her body wanted to remain pinned against the wall.

‘This is the reason that Aida isn’t being operated on by a general plastic surgeon.’ His gloved hand pointed at her scarring. ‘She has significant scarring caused by her previous surgery. This operation isn’t just about replacing her implants, it’s about reducing the scarring and trying to give her the best possible outcome.’

Lexi nodded behind her mask. ‘Why does she have scars like that?’

Iain spoke slowly. ‘All patients react differently to surgery. Some form thick, keloid scars, others hypertrophic scars like these. It’s to do with collagen in the skin. The most important aspect for Aida isn’t what I do today—although that’s obviously important—it’s more about her aftercare to minimise scarring.’

‘But if she’s prone to scarring, is there anything you can do to avoid it?’

‘We’ll monitor Aida very closely. We can use various things after surgery to reduce inflammation and scarring. A series of steroid injections might be appropriate or silicone gel sheeting used to flatten the scar. Aida knows that she has to follow my instructions to the letter for her aftercare. It was the only reason I agreed to do her surgery in the first place.’

Lexi could feel the hairs rise at the back of her neck. Iain wasn’t joking. She could just imagine how stern he’d been with Aida before agreeing to her surgery. The scarring was a complete surprise to her. She was sure she’d seen semi-naked pictures of Aida before, and nothing had been noticeable. How had she managed that?

Of course. The beauty of photographic touch-ups. She knew better than anyone how fickle the beauty industry was. As long as they got the picture they wanted it didn’t matter how they got it—or whether it was an accurate portrayal of the person or not.

Her feet moved slowly backwards, edging towards the wall again. She wished she’d known about the surgery beforehand and had given herself a little time to prepare. Watching breast surgery and having breast surgery were two entirely different things. In a way she was glad she’d slept through her own surgery and had never had to think too much about it all. She had to press her hands against the cool wall to stop herself automatically lifting them and holding them against her breasts.

She glanced downwards. There they were. Perfect, in every way.

If only she’d got them because she’d wanted them and not because someone else had criticised her. It almost made her feel like a fool.

But she was stronger now. More resilient.

She was happy with her shape and regardless of anyone else’s opinion she had more confidence like this.

Iain’s concentration was intense in Theatre. Woe betide anyone who interrupted the master at work. But the theatre staff were comfortable with him, obviously used to his techniques and procedures. He hardly needed to utter an instruction.

The surgery flew past. Quickly followed by another, more standard breast enlargement. He turned to face her as he scrubbed for yet another surgery.

‘Now would be a good time to grab a quick bite,’ he said to Lexi.

As if on cue, her stomach gave a low rumble. ‘Haven’t you finished yet?’

He shook his head. ‘Not by a long shot. I’ve got some reconstructive surgery to do on a professional football player’s knee and then some facial surgery on a lady with head and neck cancer. That one will last around four hours.’

Lexi tried to stop her jaw from hitting the floor when she realised exactly how long Iain would be in Theatre. ‘I didn’t know you did things like that. If that surgery will take so long, shouldn’t it have been done first?’

He gave a little nod of acknowledgement. ‘You’re right. We normally do the most complicated surgery first but Carol Kennedy has enough on her plate. She wanted to keep things as normal as possible. She wanted to drop her kids at school today and has told them that she’s got business in the city for a few days.’

Lexi felt a little tug at her heart as she recognised the name of the well-known TV presenter. ‘She has head and neck cancer?’ Her voice came out as a squeak, even though she was trying to be as professional as possible. News like that usually spread like wildfire and she was surprised she hadn’t heard a thing.

Iain gave a curt nod. ‘I’ll talk you through it later. Now, go and eat.’

One of the theatre nurses gestured towards the door and held it open for her as she walked towards it. ‘Come with me. I’ll show you where you can grab a coffee. We’ll have to be quick, mind. Iain will be starting again within ten minutes.’

Lexi followed her quickly to the nearby kitchen. This would be an ideal time to see how much she could find out about Iain from his colleagues. She hadn’t really met many of the staff from Kate’s before.

She gave a grateful smile as the nurse poured out some coffee and handed her a cup. ‘Take some biscuits. They’re on the table. It’s a free for all in here.’

Lexi smiled. ‘Thanks for that. Have you worked with Iain long?’

The nurse lifted her eyebrows. ‘Happy Harry?’

Lexi nearly choked. ‘Is that what you call him?’

The nurse laughed. ‘Actually, he’s not the worst. Leo Hunter used to be much more grumpy but since he’s met Lizzie he’s all smiles. His brother Ethan seems to have taken on the mantle of biggest bear.’ She walked over to the table and sat down next to Lexi. ‘But to be fair to him he’s still not recovered and he works far too long hours—they all do—but Ethan’s trouble is he’s far too stubborn to use his stick.’

Lexi frowned. ‘I’ve never seen Ethan walking with a stick.’

‘Exactly. I’ve worked in orthopaedic theatres for too many years not to know when someone should be using a stick.’

Lexi pressed her lips together. It was time for a subject change, but the nurse was already back on her feet and washing her cup. No one got to hang around for long here. ‘Let’s go, Lexi.’ She gave her a quick wink. ‘Let’s not keep our Scots laird waiting.’

Lexi followed her pale green scrubs out the door. Iain was near the end of scrubbing and his premiership footballer was being wheeled in the door. She almost couldn’t believe the range of operations that Iain was involved in.

The surgery on the footballer player took several hours and her legs were already beginning to ache by the time a very nervous-looking Carol Kennedy was wheeled in. It was obvious she recognised Lexi immediately, and if she was surprised to see her she didn’t show it. Instead, she gestured to her to come over.

Lexi’s stomach was churning. She’d met Carol at numerous charity events over the years and had always found her to be as charming in person as she was on television. She reached over and gave Carol’s hand a little squeeze. ‘I’m so sorry to see you here, Carol.’

Carol nodded nervously, tears pooling in her eyes. ‘Iain spoke to me beforehand about the filming. It’s fine with me. I’ll have some time to explain to the children when I go home.’

‘Are you sure, Carol? The last thing I want to do is invade your privacy. If this is something you want kept out of the media, I completely understand. You know that my lips are sealed and I’ll never breathe a word.’

Carol nodded gratefully. ‘I appreciate that, Lexi. I’ve been fighting this cancer in private for quite some time. But after the surgery today I’ll have some scars. Iain will do whatever he can, but I will have some scars around my neck that I don’t want to have to spend my life telling lies about.’ She shook her head. ‘In a few days’ time I’ll be home and will have told my children. If filming the surgery helps other people and helps raise the profile of the clinic for the charities, it’s fine with me.’

Carol gave a little nod as the anaesthetist signalled to her to lie back against the pillow. Lexi gave a final squeeze of her hand as the anaesthetist started slowing injecting the milky substance into her vein. A few seconds later Carol’s body relaxed and her breathing was assisted. Lexi watched as Carol’s head was tilted backwards but instead of sliding a tube down Carol’s throat, as she’d expected, the anaesthetist slid a tube down her nose.

Iain saw the expression on her face. ‘When we’re doing surgery on the head and neck we often use nasotracheal intubation. It means we can maintain the patient’s airway but still have access to do surgery in and around the face, mouth and neck.’

Lexi nodded. It made sense. If Iain needed access to the inside of Carol’s mouth, it would be virtually impossible if a tube was down her throat.

‘So what are you going to do for Carol?’

There was something so strange about seeing someone she knew lying on the operating table. Even though she’d recognised the footballer from earlier, she’d never met him before in person.

Iain and his team were positioning themselves around the table, a wide variety of surgical instruments around them. Even though Iain’s mask was in place and all she could see were his brown eyes, his thick Scottish accent carried clearly across the theatre. ‘All head and neck cancers are different. The extent of the surgery depends on the size of the cancer and where it is. If it’s a small cancer of the mouth, there is often no scarring. But if the cancer has spread from the head or neck, the most likely place for it to go to is the lymph nodes in the neck—that’s what has happened in Carol’s case.’

It sounded so ominous when he said it like that. She couldn’t bring herself to ask the obvious question. If this cancer was curable.

Iain was pointing inside Carol’s mouth. ‘I’m going to do to two types of surgery on Carol today. Transoral laser surgery is used to treat smaller cancers on the lip, mouth or throat. The laser removes the tumour using a high-power beam of light. The light is attached to a microscope so that I can see the tissue in detail when I’m operating. Carol’s tumour is near the back of her throat near her larynx. We need to be very careful and precise. Anything we do could affect her speech. Once we’ve dealt with that tumour we need to deal with the spread.

‘Neck dissection is necessary to remove all the affected lymph nodes in both sides of the neck. Tests have shown the cancer has spread to both sides. The nerve that helps move the lower lip can sometimes be affected. This can cause weakness on one side of the mouth and could potentially make her smile crooked. It would usually return to normal after a few months but I want to avoid that for Carol if I can.’

Lexi nodded. He was thinking about his patient and the impact this surgery could have on her livelihood. If Carol had problems with her speech, it would affect her ability to do her job. Things would be hard enough with her scarring. She didn’t need any further complications.

She watched as the team draped Carol’s skin and cleaned it prior to any incision. Iain attached the light and microscope to his visor and positioned himself at the entrance to her mouth. He gave his registrar, who was assisting, a nod and then looked around the theatre. ‘People, I don’t need to tell you how important my concentration is right now. No noise. No interruptions.’

For the next twenty minutes Lexi was scared to breathe. The theatre was eerily quiet. Occasionally Iain spoke quietly to his registrar and they adjusted their positions. She could see the intense focus of the laser. It was almost unthinkable that the slightest movement could mean the laser hitting healthy tissue instead of the tumour.

How could the theatre staff remain so calm? How could Iain keep his nerves in check? She felt sick just thinking about it, and from the look of her cameraman, he felt exactly the same.

Eventually Iain lifted his head, gave a nod and removed his head and eye set. He leaned back as far as he could, his back giving a painful crick.

Even beneath his mask she could see the corners of his eyes lift as he smiled. ‘That’s it, folks. You can talk again. We’ll move on to the next part of the surgery.’ The sigh of relief around the room was audible. Tense shoulders sagged and bad jokes started to circulate around the room again.

But Iain was in no way finished. He was joined at one point by Carol’s cancer specialist and the two of them reviewed the earlier CT scan to ensure Iain would capture all the lymph nodes affected. The surgery was painstaking. Iain was more exacting, more precise than she could have ever have imagined. The surgery that had been expected to take four hours actually took six, all because Iain was determined not only to remove every possible trace of cancer but also to give Carol the best cosmetic outcome possible.

When he finally finished he inserted a small plastic drain on either side of her neck. After the care and attention to detail Lexi was surprised. It seemed almost unsightly. Iain caught her expression and gave a little shake of his head. ‘We’ll need to keep these in place for the next twenty-four hours to help drain any excess fluid. It will give Carol a better result overall, even though it doesn’t look too pretty right now.’

He gave a final nod at the anaesthetist. ‘All yours, Tony. Let’s get some analgesia in and bring Carol round. I’ll be around for the next two hours if you have any concerns.’ He peeled off his gloves and mask. ‘Thank you, everyone, for your hard work and attention to detail today. Let’s do it all again on Thursday.’

It was almost as if his words gave her permission to sag against the wall. She’d found the day long, tiring, even though she’d been standing virtually in one spot. And this was just one day out of her life. Iain did this most days—sometimes every day—as well as seeing patients at the Hunter Clinic. No wonder he fell asleep in the office.

She watched as Iain moved back over to the theatre sinks to wash up. She could see the way the thin navy scrubs clung to every muscle, every sinew of his lithe body. He was chatting away to one of the scrub nurses as she cleaned the theatre around him. Not flirting. Just easy banter, the way they must act every day.

He was more relaxed in here than he was at the Hunter Clinic. And it didn’t take her long to realise why. This was home for Iain. This was his comfort zone.

Iain wasn’t renowned for his charm or easygoing manner. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was known for being gruff, sometimes downright blunt with colleagues and occasionally with patients. But his surgery spoke for itself. As did his patient recovery stories. No one could argue with those.

But if she wanted to increase publicity for the Hunter Clinic she was going to have to dig beneath the surface a little. Reveal a little of what she’d seen in Theatre today. The question was—how to do that? Iain was fiercely private and she was going to have to persuade him to lower his barriers just a touch to let their patients see the human side of the brilliant surgeon.

With the filming today she’d had a clear demonstration of his surgical skills and his commitment to the task. They’d even managed to capture some of his lighter moments with the theatre staff. All of this would be pure television gold, if only she could capture a little of the man as well.

She arched her back, just as he had done earlier. It didn’t make the same alarming cricking noise but it certainly stretched her aching muscles. She dragged her eyes away from Iain. From the shaggy hair that had been released from the theatre cap. The hair that she was imagining running her fingers through.

This would never do. She was a professional.

She was always a professional. She’d met numerous celebrities throughout her life and very few of them had impressed her. Very few of them had made her imagination run wild. Not like the way it was at the moment. It must just be fatigue. She was tired—that was all. She’d had a late night last night, after dropping Iain home, and then an early start again this morning. It couldn’t be anything else, could it?

She pushed open the door to the changing room and stripped off her pink scrubs and jumped into the shower. It only took a few minutes for the cool water to wake her up a little and she pulled on her red business suit and untied her hair, turning her head upside and down and giving it a good shake. After being confined up all day in a theatre cap, it felt good to finally have it loose again. Last she took her perfume from her bag and squirted liberally, finishing with her red lipstick.

There. Barely human again after how long? She checked her watch. Nearly twelve hours. Her stomach gave a loud rumble.

She was starving. And getting food—preferably of the unhealthy kind—was first on her list.

Iain was waiting at the changing-room doors, hoping he hadn’t missed her. Lexi Robbins had been on his radar all day. It was the first time anyone had been in his operating theatre who had actually threatened his focus.

Iain McKenzie was a surgeon who slid into ‘the zone’ whenever he operated. The patient was his absolute focus—and nothing else penetrated.

But today had been a little different. Even though his focus had still been on his patients, for the first time he’d been conscious of his peripheral vision. The set of pale pink scrubs and wide blue eyes that had occasionally caught his attention.

It had been like a constant, persistent itch. And in Iain’s mind the only way to deal with an itch was to scratch it. Maybe if he bent just a little and gave Lexi the interview she wanted she would move on to the next person on her hit list and he could return to a little sanity.

He smelt her first. Her scent permeating through the female changing-room doors. Seconds later the door opened and Lexi, a vision in red with her blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders, appeared.

He hesitated for a second. Lexi Robbins might have spent the day hidden in shapeless scrubs with her hair tucked away and no make-up on, but half an hour later the transformation into gorgeous sex princess was complete.

‘Oh, Iain. I wasn’t expecting to see you again. Is something wrong? Is Carol okay?’

He smiled. It was nice that her first thought was for the patient that she knew. He nodded his head. ‘Carol is doing fine. I’m happy to leave her for the evening and check on her again in the morning. I think she’ll have a comfortable night. Tomorrow we’ll get her drains out and her husband will bring her kids in for a visit. A few days’ rest with staff who will take good care of her will do her the world of good.’

Lexi’s face brightened, the smile reaching from ear to ear. It was obvious her concern was genuine and he liked that about her.

‘So what can I do for you, Iain? I thought you would be exhausted and want to get home.’

‘I do. I mean, I would. But I’d like to get our interview over with first.’

‘Really? After the day you’ve had?’ She seemed genuinely surprised.

He nodded. ‘Is that OK? Can we do it now?’

She seemed momentarily stunned then she reached into her bag to fumble with her phone. She pulled it out and stared at it for a second.

‘Something wrong?’

She shrugged. ‘Just the usual. Seventeen messages, I’ll get to them later.’ She looked around. ‘John, the cameraman, will still be about. I’ll send him a quick text. Is there somewhere around here we can set up?’

He pointed down the corridor. ‘I’ve already sorted it. The staff at the Hunter Clinic have the use of some office space here. We can use a room just down the corridor.’

‘Perfect.’ She pressed the details into her phone, sent the message to John and followed him down the corridor.

The office space was standard for any hospital. Not particularly big, with a desk, a phone and a chair. But the pièce de résistance was a picture window with a stunning backdrop of the Thames. Iain watched the expression on her face as she knew instantly it was the ideal setting for the interview. Not only did it give a really traditional view of London, it let patients know the setting for their potential hospital stay if they used the Hunter Clinic. What better selling point could there be?

He should have mentioned it to her earlier, but it hadn’t even crossed his mind until his registrar had realised he was going to be interviewed and mentioned the spectacular view.

Lexi started pulling a chair over to the window, nodding at John as he appeared with his camera and instantly began setting up. ‘The light will fade soon. We’d better be quick.’

Lexi, ever the professional, nodded and pulled out her notebook. She gave Iain a cheeky wink. ‘Want me to sort out some make-up for you before your big screen debut?’

He laughed. ‘I think I’ll stick with the natural look.’

‘And the scrubs?’ She pointed to his navy scrubs. He hadn’t even given them a second thought. For the sake of the clinic Lexi would probably have preferred him polished and scrubbed in his business suit. More associated with a Harley Street clinic. But that wasn’t for Iain.

He lifted his hands. ‘I’d prefer it if patients see me the way that I spend most of my day. They don’t expect me to operate with the business suit on.’

She nodded. ‘True. But I might need you to put on a business suit for some publicity shots later. Deal?’ She lifted her eyebrows as her cheeky smile got even wider. ‘Or how about a kilt, Iain? Because once the ladies have heard that Scottish accent …’

He lifted his hand. ‘Enough. I might agree to the suit, but that’s it.’

She sat down and waited for the signal from John to say that he was ready. ‘How about we negotiate on the kilt?’

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